


Marginally Forbidden Fruit

by ghosty



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Americana, F/M, Karkat's foul mouth, Southern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6733675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghosty/pseuds/ghosty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And the apple in the tree was fine and polished, calling her name like a siren; who was she to deny temptation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marginally Forbidden Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> lmao this started out as a joke. 
> 
> for spooky <3

"It was just an apple," she said weakly. For what it was worth, Karkat was certain that she could have yelled it at him, or sang, and it would still have come across as remarkably pathetic.

It's not every day you catch a woman piled up with her dress and garters in your orchard stealing fruit straight off the branches.

"Okay," Karkat says very calmly. He's actually not calm at all. It's about a thousand degrees outside, and he's not yet willing to encroach on the shade that the tree in front of him provides — the shade that the woman is currently dwelling in. His shade, come to think of it, since this was his property, and his apple tree. But it doesn't change the ugly truth that it's hotter than sin and sweat prickles on his temples and thick black hair, making his cotton collar stick to the back of his neck and his overalls feel heavy on his frame. "And you're tresspassin' on private property dressed like it's a goddamned Sunday morning mass, and you're in my apple tree eatin' my fruit. I don't know where you come from, lady, but around here we learn manners and don't behave like school kids sneakin' around copping whatever shit they fancy at the time."

The finely-dressed stranger in his tree has the decency to look ashamed. There's a flush of warmth, or maybe embarrassment in her cheeks, and the sun must be finally getting to him because he's been up since five and he’s just noticed she has the longest eyelashes he's ever seen in his life, drifting across the apples of her cheeks like spiderwebs when she blinks.

"I don’t have a penny on me," she says, finally, awkwardly turning the almost-finished Macintosh in her unblemished hands. "I have no idea what to do."

"You can get down, for a start," Karkat snaps back, and he's still mesmerized by her eyes. The woman exhales, glancing from the battered trunk to the verdant roots and dirt beneath her and then to Karkat, lingering.

"I don't think I can," she admits. And Karkat very delicately places his hands over his face.

"H. Christ," he murmurs into his palms. He hates city folk, he remembers once more. This is the type of horseshit they commit to him. Just the other day he had to endure some blue-blooded fuck trying to buy some of his stallions that weren't for sale, offering to practically pay for his entire farm. "Y'all are gonna be the death of me." He mumbles this more to himself than anything.

The woman stuck in the tree, her dark hair pulled back into a tight, neat chignon, trying not to bite her lip, did not hear what he said. Her heart was fluttering uneasily, both from the prospect of the height she was at and the undeniable fury boiling in the farmer she'd wronged, and the last thing she expected was anything good. She wondered how she'd explain this to her mother. She wondered how soiled her clothes would be when she got down.

"Jump."

She blinked. The farmer was standing right below her, dark eyes staring right at her, unwavering, his palms out in offering. Kanaya should have been afraid. But his sleeves were rolled up, exposing a hard flex of muscle from long hours in the summer and tanned almost a fine shade of caramel.

"Are you sure?" she asked, biting her bottom lip.

A knit appeared in his brow.

"Does a buck shit in the woods?"

Well then.

Kanaya laughed nervously, put down her apple, and scooted forward. She was Alice for a few horrifying seconds, her heart racing and somehow not half as afraid as she should have been because she knew — she knew — that the man would catch her.

And he did.

The lock of his elbows cradled her like iron, and his roughened hands caught tight on the expensive fabric of her dress. He only grunted softly at the impact, and her breath escaped her in a _whoosh_ , and the world spun for a few seconds before she regained her senses.

"Good?" The voice was lower and much more effective this close to her neck. Kanaya nodded quickly, still nursing her lip, and it was with unanticipated gentleness that the stranger placed her on her feet.

Naturally, she dusted off her skirts and shifted them back into place, smoothing down the wrinkles. Her mother would kill her, but so be it.

"So," Karkat said, still looking surly but unable to make eye contact with the unknown woman, "How the hell did you end up here?"

He, meanwhile, was fully prepared for some extravagant lie or admittance of escaping her gilded home for an adventure, not giving a damn whose land she trampled on along the way.

Kanaya smiled, vaguely, and he forgot his thoughts.

"Well," she began evenly, "My fiancee tried to do some very un-Christian things to me in our carriage that I did not care for. I had equine lessons some time prior, so I halted the carriage and got out, then sent the horses on their way. Oh, and I cracked a spoke with my heel. Maybe an hour ago I realized how famished I was."

The words hung in the stale summer air, punctuated by a blessed breeze that carried the dissonant song of cicadas in the boughs. Karkat stared at the woman longer than was strictly necessary, and Kanaya reminded herself to breathe, and pray. And pray some more.

"Ah." Karkat knew how absolutely fucking foolish he sounded the moment the syllable left his godforsaken mouth. Swallowing thickly, he continued, "D'you still want something? I got lemonade in the fridge."

He'd done right by this tree. The shade was cool and lovely, and he could smell the blossoms throughout the field. The woman smiled more sweetly and broadly, and he felt sick to his stomach like he'd eaten too much pie.

"Are you sure?" she asked once more, softly.

Karkat gave her a hard look, red to his ears and glowering, and Kanaya glowed. He didn't say a damn thing.

"Okay. That sounds quite good."

Far, far too much pie, Karkat thought. Too much apple pie.


End file.
